Indecision
by Hitsuiro Issa
Summary: It's time to tell the parents, Doumeki thinks. Watanaki thinks otherwise. Rated T because sex is mentioned. Short and well, oneshot. x3


**Indecision **

**A/N: Here's little something I came up with. No plot or whatsoever. Set in the time when our boys are going out. This is one of the reasons why I've been really busy lately, amen. xD **

-

You feel him shift slightly behind you, weight spent on another leg, showing obvious hesitance to leave his apartment. You understand him, of course, it's been too long, so with the tenderness and care of a lover you pull him into your arms, stretching one of your hands to gesture that you two should get going. He risks a glance behind you before burying his face into the curve of your neck; you know he's aware of your exceptional ability to ward of spirits that want him, what with the countless tasks related to such supernatural entities in the past, so it confuses you as to why he still refuses to leave his home for the moment, or why he's trembling that way in your embrace.

Hold his hand; take a step towards the stairs, away from his apartment door. He moves a bit forward with you, but only a bit, before once again leaning his forehead on your shoulder with his eyes closed; all the while, he doesn't say a word. Feel your fingers tangle in his messy cropped hair; admire the softness of each ebony strand sliding between them. Caress his pale and unblemished face; stare deep within his cerulean and golden eyes and think, ah yes, he is a fine treasure; he is yours.

You are intoxicated. Although you would rather stay this way, holding each other close, like when you do when it felt like there is nothing left...there are more pressing matters as of now, and you ask; "Is it because...it's today?"

Feel him stiffen at your words before further burying himself into the fabric of your shirt; feel his hand tremble at your side, and you slide yours into his. He clasps it immediately- like that would a dying man- and you recognize the fear and worry swimming in his wonderful eyes. You raise your brow, clench his hand a little tighter, give him comfort. Sometimes it is not so surprising to see him this way; he had always been easily frightened, always continued to fret. But it is alarming, even in this warm and sunny afternoon.

You cannot blame him for the reluctance he was holding on to- never once did you blame him, after all. He had always been as fragile as he was famous in the spirit world- perhaps because he isn't meant to be here in the first place, but you wish it isn't so, because he had long made bonds with the living, correct? He shared his existence with you. And if it weren't for you, he would have been stuck in his room all day long, seldom leaving the wards, enveloped by an almost suicidal intent of emptiness.

You shudder at the thought. No, he has been lonely enough.

His voice is small, yet melodious; hear him say, "Do we have to?", and realize what it is he fears, what it is he wants to keep you from doing.

No, we don't have to, you long to tell him. Neither of us has to go through this. But you know you should, for truth's sake. It had taken you some time before you could properly gather your courage and confidence to tell your parents about you two. About him. After all that time, well. You have to tell them now, they're getting curious, and probably your father suspects something going on about you two- about not coming back at night, about being with a boy who often declares he hated you, about everything. Of course your father doesn't know of the sweet and steamy nights you have together- well, there's no actual sex yet, but the way he holds you desperately, the way he screams your name again and again while rocking wantonly in your hand, the way he bites your neck in a vain attempt to control himself when he comes--

Well. It's better your father doesn't know any of that for the while.

But he has to know that you are not what he wants you to be; he needs to know that you have within your blood the same abilities your grandfather had once had in his veins. He has to know of the times when you find staying with your spirit seer more important than going home; he has to know about almost everything that's going in your life. Almost.

His is the voice that breaks you from your stupor; "Do we have to?" hear him ask.

And ah, how you long to tell him that you needn't to! How you wish to abandon every obligation you have towards your parents, because you know, as much as he does, that there's no place for people like you in your father's eyes. But then, why else should you? Your parents are seldom home; and if they were, the visit was brief, and you had spent almost all your recent years alone in the massive family temple.

Bask in the light of doubt for a moment; do not bother to answer his question. There are some things better left unsaid. Tell him, rather, "Let's go."; take his hand, pull him down the stairs and out into the streets. Do all these with the usual expressionless face, with the same nonchalant tone.

A walk to the family temple would only take five minutes, but you wish to extend it, even for just a little bit. He's still unsure, after all- and, in all honesty, you feel yourself sharing the same doubt, just as much as you two share an eye. Numerous "what if's" flash before your eyes, each scenario different yet alarming, and with every step of the way you feel the weight of responsibility- for who else can carry it?- threaten to crush you beneath its mass.

But his hand is in yours, and it is comforting. You keep it that way, despite the fact that he's already tugging away from you- and it hurts, it hurts so much to think that he wants to get away. Turn him around, hold his shoulders in place. Ask him, "Why?"

His are the eyes of golden and blue- you find yourself once again losing to his serene beauty, and for a moment, the weight of responsibility is taken away. You notice the other emotions swimming in his bi-colored orbs- fear, uncertainty, and indecision (all of which you are aware of), and..."No one would accept me."

The last is spoken out loud, and as he did you take him into your arms and steer him back towards his apartment.

Perhaps the living of your family never would, but then again, it doesn't matter much anymore.

You are there for him.

**-**

**A/N: That's it. Too short for my taste, but oh well. Read and review, my kittens. xD**


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